


i don't want to swim forever

by viscrael



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: (i guess implied at the very least), Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Short, some sort of post-canon au?? or smth??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:22:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viscrael/pseuds/viscrael
Summary: “Urie.” Mutsuki’s arms are around him and he’s trying desperately to protect them from something, something. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”





	

**Author's Note:**

> i am many (many) chapters behind on :re and im debating not catching up purely bc theres just. too much pain involving mutsuki honestly he deserves the world and i just. i want him to be hap p y 
> 
> anyway i forced myself to write for a ship that i like but dont usually write for so i spit this out Real Quick its super short im sorry

Mutsuki is asleep when Urie cracks the door open, but not for long. The other man stirs, rolling over in his covers until they’re facing each other. The light from the streetlamp outside their window leaves streaks across his face. It looks like war paint.

“Urie?” Mutsuki says, his voice groggy and hoarse from lack of use. He sits up, blinking. Urie doesn’t move from his position in the doorway, a hand still clutching the doorknob, his fingernails almost digging into the metal. “What are you doing up?”

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Urie says instead of answering. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should just go back to bed, and he begins to—but Mutsuki’s awake fully now, and he shoves his covers back, reaching for Urie with a, “Wait!”

He does. They look at each other for a moment.

“Don’t go.” Mutsuki isn’t whispering, but he’s speaking low, quiet. “Please. Tell me…tell me why you came in here?”

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing.” He looks like he wants to push further past that, but he falters—stops with his mouth still hanging open, then shuts it just as quickly. After that, he doesn’t prod Urie anymore, so it’s of his own volition when he shuts the door closed softly behind him and crawls into Mutsuki’s bed.

He passes it off as purely physical, at first. Mutsuki makes room for him automatically and then they’re kissing, pressed into each other as closely as they can get, Mutsuki’s hand cupping the back of his neck while his own finds the curve of a hip, the strong muscle of Mutsuki’s stomach, up until he meets the flat surface of his lover’s chest. He runs a hand over the twin scars there, newly healed and still delicate, and it makes Mutsuki’s breath catch.

Then they’re parting and Mutsuki keeps them at arm’s length, dark eyebrows furrowed in worry. “Urie,” he says, and it really is a whisper this time.

That shouldn’t do it, but it does. He must see something in Urie’s expression, then; there must be something that tips him off, if the midnight visit hadn’t been enough, if the desperate burn of his touch hadn’t been enough, if his hesitance hadn’t been enough—then they’re pulled together again, but this time Urie’s nose is pressed into a dark shoulder. His lips brush the junction of Mutsuki’s neck on the way.

“Urie.” Mutsuki’s arms are around him and he’s trying desperately to protect them from something, something. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

Mutsuki’s voice is like something from a dream—the good ones. It’s gentle, so sure of himself, and reverberates through Urie’s chest, striking a chord in the crevice between his lungs.

“Tooru,” Urie says. He feels his boyfriend’s chest rise with a deep inhale. He says again, “Tooru.”

 They stay the way they are.


End file.
